His Favorite Star
by Jaymic
Summary: Realizing she is the 'scandal', Olivia has taken up her fathers offer to disappear. Now she must pick up the pieces and rebuild. Was bringing Jake along on this journey a mistake or just what she needed?
1. Chapter 1

I watch as the ground moves further away from us and a slight sense of panic sets in. I look over at Jake, the man who asked me to save him. He sits there, reading a magazine he found lying in the compartment in front of us. He looks calm, serene even, but I know there's more to him. He's done things to people I love, he's done things to me. He's like Jekyll and Hyde. The man I watch sitting here, calmly reading like he doesn't have a care in the world doesn't seem to be the same man who has the blood of many on his hands, but he is.

He wants me to take him away from all that though, to change his life. He doesn't want to be Hyde anymore, but how can one Hyde save another Hyde? After all, I have a body count as well. Well not body count, soul count is more like it. He's ended lives, I've destroyed them. That knowledge hurts me so I sit here trying to convince myself it's simply a part of my job, it's the sick and twisted reality of being a fixer. You can't do your job without going into the dark every now and then. The falling sun shines into the cabin of the plane and blinds me momentarily, Jake notices and he reaches into his carry on and pulls out a pair of sunglasses, I decline. The golden light bathes over us and the warmth of it is strangely comforting. He bends towards me to get a better look out the cabin window. He stares dreamily out into the evening sky and the familiar, serene Mr. Jekyll makes another welcome appearance. I join him watching the beautiful sky as the day slowly fades away.

"You know it's always been my favorite star," Jake said interrupting my thoughts.

"What is?" I asked.

"The sun," he says looking into my eyes. He goes back to reading his magazine.

I can do this, I can save him. I can push him into the light. My gut tells me I can, my gut tells me he is worth saving, but I cant go with him. I'm broken.

What do I do now?

What AM I doing now?

I can't do this.

I want to turn around.

I start breathing heavy and realize I am panicking. I exhale slowly and try to calm down, try to focus on the tasks at hand.

'You ok?' He asks squeezing my hand. I face him and he raises his eyebrows, pleading for a response. He looks genuinely concerned, like he knows I have a million thoughts zooming through my mind. I squeeze back, smile at him and nod, but I say nothing. I'm tired. I can't tell him that though. I can't tell him what's in my head.

'Come here," I watch him as he moves the arm rest that separates us. He holds his arms out welcoming me. After a moment of hesitation l scoot over to him, lay my head on his chest and allow him to embrace me

'It's gonna be ok,' he said kissing my forehead. I'm so tired. Hearing those words from someone else's mouth besides my own, his familiar smell, the sound of the engine reminding me of the miles separating me from so many problems, it works and I'm able to focus. I am removing myself from the White House and I'm fixing Jake. He was put into the hole because of me. Him waking up panicked and in a cold sweat at night is because of me, so I will fix him. I will fix all of this. Compartmentalizing everything calms me and once again I am able to breath and push away the knowledge that I am not whole. The thoughts finally stop and I'm able to finally relax enough to drift off.

I wake up and see the night sky out my window. I'm still lying in his arms. The steady rise and fall of his chest lets me know he's asleep. I sneak a look at my phone. Seven missed calls. Four from the White House and three from Abby.

I consider calling one of them back. I run my finger across the screen contemplating which number to dial, although in my head I know which one I want to call.

"Don't", I hear Jake whisper. His eyes are still closed and I wonder how he knows what I'm doing.

I lift myself off his chest and face him.

He peeks at me with one eye them slowly opens the other, "don't call them", he states calmly.

"They may need me."

Jake adjusts himself, shaking off sleep. He places his hand on my knee, "Liv, you just left. They're panicked right now. You ripped the Band-Aid off and it hurts, but if you call them you'll change your mind and I don't think that's what you want to do", he gazes in my direction waiting for me to correct him. I don't.

"Can you to do something for me?" He asks.

"What?"

He leans forward and holds out his hand, "give me your phone."

"I am not giving you my phone," I laugh, the unease was evident in my voice.

Jake lets out an audible sigh and sits back in his seat, "fine...in fact call Fitz back. He will ask where you are and beg you to come back and you'll listen because you love him and you'll be right back where you started, right back in the dark."

"Loving him is not..."

"No it's not," he interrupts, "but I know the things you've done were done out of love for him. I'm not saying…" he hesitates, "the fact that you risked your life and freedom for love…it's admirable, it is, but look where it's brought you. Liv…give me your phone."

"I thought I was supposed to be saving you."

He smirks at me, "were standing in the sun together, remember? Even if one of us goes kicking and screaming."

We both laugh and I hand him my phone. Jake was right, I would have gone right back had he asked. I love Fitz. He's the only man I've ever loved. What makes me think I can just turn that off? Do I even want to? I watch Jake take the battery out of my phone. He hands the useless electronic device back to me.

"When do I get my battery back?" I ask.

"Whenever you want," he says with a shrug.

I know its not the best idea to find comfort in him right now, but in my current mental state I need it. I lay back onto his chest. His t-shirt allows me to feel the warmth of his body and the soothing beat of his heart, "how do I know you aren't keeping me away from everyone so you can keep me to yourself?"

"Would you blame me?"

I look up at him and giggle, "you wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't," he hugs me tighter, "you're saving me. I'm just...returning the favor. Like I said you ripped the Band-Aid off. It's going to be hard for all involved, but I'm going to help you through. At any time you tell me you want to go back, I won't stand in the way," he pauses and brushes away the hair thats fallen over my face, "do you want to go back?"

I think about his question and I know deep down the answer is, 'I'm not sure', but I don't say that.

"No," I whisper.

He breathes out and I can feel his body loosen, like my answer lifted a heavy weight off of him, "so... where are we going?" He asks.

I rise from his chest and rustle through my carry on. I pull out the Manila folder my father gave me with all of our travel information, I open it and search for an answer to his question, "Bermuda," I say reading the itinerary, "a place called Warwick Long Bay."

He nods, "how long?"

"Eight months, after that we can head back to DC or..." I trailed off, not really sure what our other options are at this point. I was in such a rush to get out that I didn't think through everything. Something that is not like me. I don't know why that surprises me, I haven't been myself for a while now.

"I find it interesting that you're just now asking for details," I say, changing the subject in my mind.

"It didn't matter where we were going, it's who I'm with."

We catch each others gaze for a moment. I pull his arm over me, rest my head on his chest and try to fall back asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading and commenting. I added 'x' to indicate beginning and end of a memory, in case it isn't clear.**

The taxi pulls up to the address in the manila envelope my father prepared for me.

"Here we are," the cab driver says with a gentle smile.

I nervously exit the car and stand, I'm a bit frozen. I watch as Jake pays the man for the ride and grabs our bags from the trunk. It's all happening in slow motion and my stomach drops as I watch the cab drive away. He was my last chance to turn back.

"Well, here we are. Want to take a look around?" Jake asks, once again stirring me from my thoughts.

"I think we can see everything from here," I joke. He laughs but it's not entirely untrue. The place is small, but quaint. It was one of many cookie cutter basic homes in a row. It must be a residential area. Besides unique lawn decor, all the homes blend together. A very inconspicuous area indeed, good job dad. I grab the single front door key out of the envelope, breathe out and open the door. Jake turns the lights on as I begin to explore. First thing I see is the kitchen, it's decorated in soft blues. Next is the living room, its beach themed and reminds me of a resort, there's a couch, an armchair, a small TV and a house phone. I see Jake walk with our bags toward the hall and I follow. I see three doors. Jake opens one and reveals a bedroom.

"Twin bed," he says with a chuckle, "daddy always gets the last laugh"

"I'll take this room" I say, I'm slightly relieved at my father's choice. Jake nods, handing me my suitcase. He digs into his pocket and retrieves my phone battery, handing it to me. I watch him exit my room before I fall onto my bed. I stare at the battery for a few moments. Why did he give it back to me? I sigh and place the battery on my night stand. I did it, I'm here. Stay strong.

"Hey!" He calls out, "I found the bathroom and a shower is calling my name, do you mind if I go first?"

"No, not at all," I yell back.

The room is simple, like the rest of the house. A twin bed, a small closet, a dresser and a chaise lounge chair, the walls are blank and the single window is covered by noting but cheap plastic blinds. Decorating this place could be fun. I close my eyes but quickly open them because, like always, it causes my mind to think of him. I decide to get up and unpack my bags, hoping the distraction works. I neatly lay each outfit I brought onto my bed. White…grey…black…and it's all business attire. What the hell was I thinking? I haphazardly grab all the clothes and throw them back into my suitcase. Shopping is definitely going to be one of the first things I do while here. I wonder if Jake will want to go. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit part of me kind of hopes he does. I want the company, I want a friend. I haven't had someone like that in my life since Stephen left, someone I could really talk to, someone who wasn't afraid to tell me what they really thought. I'll never forget the day he left, our last conversation begins to play in my mind...

**x**

"You can't do this, you can't go."

"Liv, you're the one who pushed me to propose in the first place."

"I never thought it meant you'd leave us, you can't leave us, you can't leave me."

"This world that were in, it's not conducive with having a family."

"That's ridiculous, Steven."

"Is it? Has it ever occurred to you that none of us have an actual life outside of OPA? We live, breathe and eat OPA, it is our lives, that's the way it is, that's the way it has to be for us to be the best, for us to be gladiators and we are the best, but it's a choice, you can't have both. Gladiator or having a normal life, its one or the other Liv, one or the other and at this point I made my choice, I'm sorry"...

**x**

If only I knew then what I know now.

There's a knock at the door, "come in"

I watch Jake open the door slightly, I can see he's only wearing a towel over his waist.

"Hey, I just wanted you to know the showers clear. I'm pretty sure there's hot water left but don't quote me on it.

"Thanks," I say pretending to be busy with the clothes in my suitcase in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

"I uh…I guess I'll go to bed now…see you in the morning…"

"Ok"

He closes my door and my breathing returns to normal. I didn't notice it changed. I wish I had a better understanding of our 'arrangement'. I have way too many other things to figure out to concern myself with at this point though. One step at a time, Liv, one step at a time. I grab my towel and head for the shower.

* * *

Its 3:00 am and I can't sleep. All I've done since laying down is toss and turn. It's dark and quiet and the air is still. I'm standing outside his door. It's cracked slightly and I can hear him tossing and turning. I wonder if he's awake like I am. This is silly. I turn to leave when I hear him whisper my name. I'm paralyzed.

"Yeah?" I finally respond

"What are you doing?" I hear him ask.

I'm not sure how to respond, the words are stuck in my throat. The door opens and he's on the other side. In my panic I didn't hear him getting out of bed.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah, I just…I couldn't sleep" I finally manage to say.

"Neither can I."

We stand in silence at his door for at least a minute before he reaches for my hand. He begins to lead me into his room and I'm not sure what to do. I don't know what he's doing and I'm not sure I want to stop him.

"Lay down" he says.

"Jake I…"

"Liv, lay down" he interrupts, gently.

I lay down and watch him leave.

_Come back._

The only light in his room is from the moon shining through the blinds, but I can see his room is just like mine, bed, dresser, and lounge chair. After a few seconds he comes in with my pillow and blanket, handing them to me. I watch as he pulls the chair towards the bed I am currently occupying. He grabs his pillow and blanket and settles in on the chair.

"There, I have a strong feeling we will both have an easier time falling asleep now."

"Jake, that can't be comfortable"

"Liv, I'm a navy man. I've had some of my best night's sleep on a lot worse.

"Ok," I say snuggling into my blanket. I can feel the warmth from where he was laying. I think he's closed his eyes so I decide to do the same, but it does no good, I still can't sleep.

"The thought of the unknown isn't exciting me, in fact it's terrifying me," I whisper into the dark.

"It's scaring me too," he responds.

"What's wrong with us?"

I hear him adjusting himself, moving closer to me.

"Let's make a pact," he says

"A pact?"

"Yeah, starting tomorrow we push our limits, try new things, you know step outside our comfort zones."

"Jake, you were part of a super-secret spy organization and I fixed a national election. I'm not interested in pushing our limits."

"Ah, but you are mistaken.I am Jake Ballard, paper salesman," he replies, holding out his hand to be shook.

I giggle, "nice to meet you Jake Ballard. I'm Olivia Pope."

"Olivia Pope, what?"

"Just...Olivia Pope..."

"I like it."

I can't stop smiling and even though I can only make out his shadow in the darkness, I know he's smiling too, "ok, let's do it, starting tomorrow we step outside our comfort zones, we become…normal people..."

"Normal people."

I can feel my eyelids getting heavy and I know it's because we talked, I don't just want a friend to help me through this, I_ need_ one. Normal. Maybe Steven was onto something.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for reading and commenting.**

I'm woken up by the smell of breakfast. I'm starved. I jump out of bed wondering how he got restaurant food to smell so good. Once I reach the kitchen I'm shocked to see Jake cooking. Bacon, eggs and pancakes. He hasn't noticed my presence and I don't want him to, there's something about seeing someone when they don't know they're being watched, it's like getting a forbidden peak into their soul. I get a ping in the pit of my stomach.

_That's probably how he felt watching me._

Hyde...He's fully dressed for the day in a plain grey t shirt, jeans and sandals, I'm a little embarrassed to still be in my pajamas, but there's no way I'm leaving this scene. He's beating eggs and whistling a tune unfamiliar to me. He seems content, and just like that I'm back to seeing Jekyll. Jake turns slightly to pour the eggs into the pan and my presence is finally known.

"Hi."

'Hi,' I say, a little bummed I've been caught. I take a seat at the kitchen table. Jake walks over and hands me a plate of already cooked eggs and goes back to preparing the rest of our breakfast.

The eggs are amazing, light, fluffy and perfectly seasoned. I'm impressed.

"Was all this food in the house already?"

"No, there's a small store a few blocks away. I went exploring early this morning."

_Without me…_

"Oh..." I say, trying to hide the confusing feeling of disappointment I'm experiencing, "where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Years and years of practice." He approaches the kitchen table with two plates, pancakes and bacon.

"So you're self-taught?" I ask in between bites.

He walks away from the table, towards the refrigerator, grabbing what looks like orange juice.

"As a kid I had to learn," he makes his way to the cabinet and grabs two cups, "I had a sibling."

A normal person may not have even noticed the change in his demeanor, but I'm not normal. I've had enough practice reading people and I sensed we were broaching a sensitive subject. He's stiffer, avoiding sitting down, avoiding eye contact. I remember him mentioning his family back when we were casually dating, back before I knew who he really was. I think he may have said he was the youngest, but that doesn't add up. Who am I kidding? He's B613, odds are he was lying about his background, Huck did. He's a protector, he was definitely the oldest. Whatever the truth may be, I guess it's not really any of my concern.

"How did you sleep?" He asks taking a seat. He's attempting to redirect the conversation. I welcome the change.

"Great..."

He's still visibly uneasy, so we sit, eating in silence. I wonder if I can get through. Maybe find his family and reunite them. He'd be fixed…then he'd have no use for me.

_Isn't that what you want?_

Why does my mind always wander into the dark?

"Did you have any plans for today?" Jake asks breaking the silence, but only briefly lifting his eyes off his food.

"I need to get clothes. I didn't pack anything but work attire."

"You're kidding..." he states, a hint of a smile peeking through.

"I wish I was..."

"Ok, so I guess were headed back into town," he says.

_We are?_

Jake begins to clear our plates from the table and I follow his lead. He's starts filing the sink with dishwater and soap while I hand him dirty dishes. It's a serene, almost domestic like moment, it's nice.

"So, you're gonna handle breakfast tomorrow, right?"

"Sure, did you buy some cereal?"

He rolls his eyes and nudges me with his hip. His playfulness catches me by surprise. I dip my hand in the dish soap suds and flick some at him.

"Hey!" He shouts in false anger, "so, while I explored I noticed a few stores. I'm sure we can head down there and..." he pauses and glances at me, afraid he may have said something wrong. The awkwardness and uncertainty of how were supposed to act around each other weighs heavy on him too, "...I mean if you want me to, you know, go with you to-"

"I'd like that," I say with nod.

"Ok," he says, nodding back.

I bite my lip to hide the smile that's forming. Jake nudges me again with his hip, but a bit gentler this time. We're quiet now. Washing dishes in peaceful silence. Olivia and Jake.

* * *

"Were ready to seat you now," the waitress states, leading us into the air conditioned restaurant.

"Thank God" I say, ready to pass out from the stifling heat. The sun was baking me and I am beyond tired from all the shopping. Ignoring my discomfort, I am amazed at how beautiful it is in Warwick Bay. The colors, the landscape. The crowd of people reminds me of DC, except everything is much slower.

_I guess life is more mellow when you're not trying to pass bills…or hide dead interns… _I laugh to myself, thinking about the morbid truth of DC.

"I am buying myself the biggest, greasiest burger they have here" Jake says passing me on our way to our seats. He dramatically dumps all the bags he was carrying to the floor before taking a seat, "I deserve it after what you put me through."

"Yeah, yeah", I mutter, taking a sip of the lemon water in front of me.

"So that's what shopping with a woman is like, you always hear about it but to actually experience it... wow..."

"Oh stop you know you had fun."

"I did, but it stopped being fun around hour 3"

I laugh out loud at his statement, "was it not your idea for us to try new things? A handshake would be considered just as good as a verbal contract therefore legally binding in many jurisdictions."

Jake begins to rub his brow, preparing himself for the sarcastic attack he walked right into.

"I could have sworn you were Jake Ballard, paper salesman. Are you telling me a middle aged paper salesman has never gone dress shopping with his…"

Jake stops and looks up at me. I caught his attention.

A waiter drops his tray. The loud bang causes a perfectly timed distraction. I make sure to turn in the direction of the noise, purposely giving it my full attention.

"Fine…you could have at least left the dressing room door open." Jake says.

"Jake!" I shout, turning back to him

"Hey, all I'm saying is it's _your_ turn now, I have more than reached my 'new things' quota."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Our eyes reach each others and we chuckle.

"May I take your order?" a cheery waitress approached us and asks. She has a big toothy smile and even bigger red hair.

"I'll have a burger…a big one."

"We don't serve burgers here, sir."

Jake looks wounded by her words, like he's had one too many blows to his sense of comfort in the past 24 hours.

"We have all kinds of seafood," she says, noticing his change in demeanor as well.

Jake sighs and thumbs through the menu, "do you have anything not frou-frou?"

"Honestly?" She asks.

Jake raises his eyebrows, giving her permission to continue.

"No…you're not gonna find anything you're looking for at a place like this, sir. You seem like down home people, you new here?"

"Yes, how can you tell?" I ask.

"Oh you can always tell tourists. They go to places like this one. You want to have a good time you need to check out 'The Stowaway'. It's about 3 miles from here. You can't find it taking the main roads, the owners designed it that way. You won't find any food, but you'll enjoy yourself. Good beer, dancing, hell even karaoke."

Jake looks at me waiting to see my reaction. The thought of going to a place called 'The Stowaway' isn't all that appealing to me, but I owe him.

"Sounds like something to try", I saw through a forced smile.

"Well that's just great, I'll write down the address and give it to you before you leave. Were you going to order?"

"I think, I'll try the Caribbean artichoke and crab salad with a glass of Pinot Noir"

"Sir?"

"Uhhh, I'll have what she's having."

"Wonderful, I'll be right back" the waitress shuffle off to cater to her other customers.

I sigh slightly as I watch her leave, I turn back to find Jake smiling at me.

"Thanks" he says with a soft voice.

"For what?" I ask, honestly confused

"For giving me my turn."

"A deals a deal."


	4. Chapter 4

Were quiet. I'm in a red, loose fitting mini dress. I don't wear red. I haven't worn it since my college days. Red isn't professional. Red isn't mature or subdued, it draws attention. It isn't Olivia Pope, which is exactly why I chose it. I glance over at Jake. He's sitting across from me in the cab, looking out the window. I can't help but stare. He's in jeans and a powder blue button up shirt. God, he smells amazing and the stubble that covers his jaw line makes me want to…

_Ok Olivia, breathe._

I refocus. Why me? He's troubled, but like me, he hides it well, I mean he's not like Huck. He's charming and a catch, on the surface at least. But he fell for …me. He's chasing the unobtainable and he must know it so, why me?

"Jake..."

"Yeah," he responds turning his attention to me and giving his warm Jake Ballard smile.

"Nothing…"

He looks into my eyes, he's studying me, "you sure?"

Sometimes I forget he's almost as good at reading people as I am,

"Yeah," I respond

"Here we are guys" the taxi driver announces, interrupting our conversation. Jake pays for our ride and we exit the cab.

"The Stowaway" is old and rickety. It looks like it should be condemned.

"You ready?" Jake asks.

"Sure am," I say with all the fake excitement I can muster. He grabs my hand and leads me into the shack. It's full of people and loud, awful music.

"Did you want something to drink?"

"Sure…" I say and allow him to lead me to the bar.

The bartender is a gruff older man. He looks like he's lived his life and earned every wrinkle on his face. Jake catches his attention.

"I'll have whatever beer you have on tap."

"What about your lady?"

"Uh, she um…" he stammers.

He's flustered by the question, it's cute. I cover my face with my hand to hide my smile. I don't think we will ever be able to avoid people assuming we are together. The same thing would happen back in DC whenever Harrison and I ventured out in town. It was never awkward though.

"Well?" the bartender startled me out of my thoughts. Man is he rude.

"What's your wine selection?"

"We don't serve wine here, lady. Would you just choose so-"

"Excuse me!" I interrupt him, " I-"

"Give us a second, please" Jake interjects. The bartender scowls at him, but turns to the next customer.

Jake turns his attention to me, coming close so I can hear what he is saying, "Liv this is a hole in the wall establishment. They are not going to have wine or popcorn. This gentleman here is an asshole. He is probably an asshole to his own grandmother, guys like him just are. I could beat his ass for you, we both know I could, but I'd like to forget the whole B613 trained killer thing and just enjoy your company..."

I frown at him, "Sir, I'm ready to order." I say waving him back over to us.

"Well…"

"I'll have a sex on the beach, and don't give me the cheap shit either, I want the good vodka you have hidden behind the bar."

The bartender's demeanor softens, "ok," he leaves us to make our drinks.

"Whoa…" Jake says, his mouth agape.

"What?"

"Nothing…I just…I didn't think you knew anything but wine."

"I had my wild years." I say with a smirk

The bartender hands us our drinks. I take a sip and nod at him, letting him know he did well. He grins at me. I got him to grin. I'm strangely very proud of it.

"Come on wild thing" Jake says nudging me.

I follow, heading out to the crowd, we take a seat at one of the tables near the karaoke machine. The woman on stage is belting out her rendition of Toni Braxton's "unbreak my heart". It's not bad, but it's also not good. Jake takes the seat next to me and takes a big gulp of his beer.

"So what song are you going to sing?"

"I am not singing and you better not either." I say pointing my finger at him. He laughs at me and grabs my finger.

"Is that a threat Olivia Pope? Are you daring me to go up there and sing my little heart out?"

"No!" I snap, snatching my finger back,"singing karaoke is something young adults and people having a midlife crisis do. We are adults, professional adults," I say putting extra emphasis on the word 'professional'. It quickly dawns on me what I just said and I regret it. I clench my eyes dreading what will surely come out of Jakes mouth.

"Hmmm, you know Jake Ballard super spy wouldn't sing karaoke, buuuutttt…"

"Don't say it...' I respond, rubbing my temple.

"Jake Ballard paper salesman is more than likely going through a midlife crisis…"

"Where's the exit?"

"and we are stepping outside of our comfort zones, so it would be a disservice to our progress to not sing karaoke."

"Just go." I say, shaking my head.

He jumps up and makes his way through the crowd and to the stage. Watching him thumb through the songs fills me with both dread and nervous anticipation. I hear a familiar beat begin.

_I want you to want me._

_I need you to need me._

I sink into my seat. I'm humiliated. I want to be invisible right now. I cover my face with my hands and peek out through my fingers. He is so bad at this, he's tone deaf and has zero rhythm, it's…adorable. It's so bad, it's endearing. He looks over at me and gives me a quick wink before directing his attention back to the crowd... Jake Ballard you could charm the pants off a nun. I remove my hands and once again cover the smile that's forming.

_Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin'_

_Ohh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?_

The crowd loves him. They're clapping to the beat and cheering him on, the energy is infectious. Everyone's so carefree and happy, there's no judgment, no stress, it's just let your hair down fun and as uneasy as I am right now, I don't want it to end. There's a table of women sitting by me, swooning over him. Interesting, so it's not just me he affects.

"The things I would do to him…"

"No kidding."

"Who does he keep looking at?"

"Her I think…"

"She is so lucky…"

I lift my back from the hunched position it's in. I feel a small twinge of pride. Even if what they're assuming isn't true.

_I'm not his, I belong to Fitz._

Saying that to myself pulls me back to my sad reality. I need to shake it off, I don't want that reality, not right now. I take a big gulp of my drink and clap along with the crowd, taking it all in. I make eye contact with one of the women and I give her a smile.

The song ends and the crowd gives him a standing ovation. I was so in the moment I didn't realize I was too. He reaches our table and I give him a friendly hug.

"Well, congratulations," he says out of breath, "it took nearly 2 years but you have now had the full, Jake Ballard experience."

"I could have done without it."

"Don't lie to me Olivia Pope."

I'm blushing. It's probably the alcohol, but, hes getting to me.

"Those ladies over there are checking you out" I state, nodding in their direction.

He shrugs, "I'm here with you…"

The familiar pitter patter begins stirring deep in my belly.

_Oh no..._

"Maybe you should ask one of them to sing a duet with you... the blonde seems like she may be your type..." I say running my finger around the rim of my glass, giving it my full attention.

"Liv... "Jake says, pausing to lift my chin, forcing me to face him, "I'm here with you."

"Jake...I'm supposed to be fixing you. I can't fix you if I-"

"If there are feelings involved..." he interrupts, his smile is gone, "because you think feelings get in the way of you doing your job."

I don't respond.

"I'm not a job, Liv. I told you that before. I don't need fixing."

"Well then why did you ask me to fix you? Why are you here?"

"I never asked you to fix me. I asked you to stand in the sun with me, to save me."

"I'm not following." I say.

"What's wrong with me, what B613 has planted in my head, that's a part of me and unfortunately it will always be a part of me."

"So you are un-savable." I counter.

"You're saving me as we speak," he snaps back, almost annoyed that I don't understand, "Liv, I am nothing short of a monster."

I shake my head, 'no' in response to his statement.

"It's true… the things I've done.." he looks off as he speaks, as if he's remembering every face, "but when I'm with you, even if it's just in your presence, I don't feel like a monster. I feel like...Jake...I don't have to hide or pretend with you, you know all my demons and I think I know most of yours," he raises his eyebrow at me, waiting for me to correct him, I don't, "we hide our dark sides from everyone, we wear masks and we pretend except when it's us. When it's us, you're Liv and I'm Jake and… the world doesn't seem so sad."

"Jake after the year I've had, I have nothing left to give…I just…I..."

"Olivia…stop…breathe," he says so softly, I obey.

"Jake."

"Just hear me out will you?"

I look him in the eyes, giving him permission to continue.

"Let me be Jake for you. I think you need him more than you realize."

I let out another uneasy laugh, "I don't need anybody."

"You need a friend."

I pause, taken aback. I wish I could order another drink, "you want to be Jake for me? And what exactly does that entail?"

"What do you want it to entail?" He asks, he's still serious and it's still making me uneasy.

_I don't have answers to these questions, can't you see that?_

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"What does Olivia pope want to say?"

"Olivia Pope doesn't want to say anything, Olivia Pope wants a drink."

Jake smiles for the first time since our conversation turned serious, "Liv I know I'm not imagining what's there between us, I know you recognize it too. I also know you're not ready to figure out what that is exactly and...that's ok... it's ok to be selfish. It's. ok. to. be. selfish," he repeats, giving each word emphasis, "you can keep taking in broken souls, you can patch us up and make everything better and send us on our way. Or you can take a time out, take the superwoman cape, hang it up for a moment and focus on getting back to you."

"Are you trying to fix me?"

"I don't perform miracles."

I give him a shocked and insulted looking and he laughs at me, I join in.

"I just want to help you on this journey back to Olivia Pope. You're a good person Liv and with everyone's problems being piled on top of you, I think maybe you lost your way."

"I'm afraid I don't know how to get back..." I state, it's the first raw and unfiltered thing I've said tonight.

"I think you do." he responds, he places his hand on top of mine, comforting and encouraging me.

"You want me to get you that drink?"

"Yeah."


	5. Chapter 5

**2 weeks later.**

"Liv..."

"What?" I reply, not looking up from my book.

"It's your turn to make breakfast, where are the fruit loops?" He asks, shuffling through the kitchen cabinets.

I look down from my book to the bowl of soggy cereal that sits in front of me. I look back up and give him a guilty smile.

He rolls his eyes and smiles back, "I guess I'll just make some eggs," he heads to the refrigerator and starts grabbing ingredients, "would you like some?"

"Sure," I mumble, my focus back on my book.

"He's just not that into you," Jake reads my book cover out loud, "really Liv? I don't think men not falling for you is an issue you have."

"Maybe, maybe not. All I know is this last self-help book available in Warwick Bay."

"Has it helped?"

I shrug.

"Well now that you've devoured every self-help book Warwick Bay has to offer what's the next step of Olivia Pope's journey back to herself?"

"I think I want to plant a garden."

"A garden?" he asks over the sound of sizzling eggs.

"Yeah, why not? When I was younger my dad took me to an older woman's house a few times. I think she may have been my grandmother, I can't be sure, but she had the most beautiful garden. It was a happy place, one of the few places I felt safe."

Jake approached the kitchen table with two plates of eggs, "that sounds like a great idea, did you want my help?"

I put my book down and begin to eat, "no, I can head down to the store on my own, but tonight's also my night to cook so how about some ideas?"

"Hmmm not sure," he states, in-between bites, "Italian maybe?"

"Alright, I'll be sure to make reservations."

Jake shakes his head and playfully kicks my leg. I kick him back, "pass the salt."

* * *

I'm enjoying the fresh air, the sunshine, the change of scenery, but I can't be sure I'm doing this correctly. Not knowing is slightly exhilarating though. I've always been confident in my abilities in DC, it's a world I know well. Through my connections and skills, I am a master at what I do, but here in paradise, sweating in dirty jeans and a t-shirt, in the beginnings of my garden, planting something called baby's breath, I am out of my element and it's kind of fun.

"You know that soil would be a lot easier to work with if you wet it first."

I look up from my messy adventure and see an elderly lady in the next yard working on her own garden, "are you speaking to me?" I respond.

"Well who else?"

I'm not really sure how to respond, its rare strangers give me advice. She gets up and approaches me. Her hair is perfectly styled in a short salt and pepper bob and her clothes are the typical grandmother get up, jeans that go way too far up her waist and a tacky T-Shirt with the words World's Best Grandma plastered across it. She uses the watering can in her hand to wet my soil.

"There, try it now."

I obey and try digging, she was right, "thanks."

She gets on her knees next to me, "you're welcome, I'm Helen by the way," she holds out her hand for me to shake.

I rub my dirty hands on my jeans, "Olivia." I stop myself right before I say 'Pope' not only because I don't want her to connect me to the DC dynamo, but also because I don't think it's something you do outside of Washington.

"Well, Olivia it's nice to meet you. Whenever I see someone working on their yard I assume they're here to stay so I make sure I introduce myself. So many come and go, it's nice to meet people laying down roots."

"Oh I'm not here to stay," I respond, I feel a little guilty doing so.

"Just visiting then?"

"I guess you could say that."

"You're running," she states, it wasn't a question, she knows.

"What…what makes you say that?" I stammer.

"I've lived here for 20 years my dear and like I said, I've seen people come and go. I've heard and seen every story, people come here for one of four reasons: to vacation, to live, to find themselves or to run away." She grabs one of the gardening shovels laying on the ground and helps me dig, "so what are you running from?"

"I'd rather not say" I mumble.

"That's alright."

"So you came here to live?"

"Oh no, I was running too."

Her response takes me by surprise, "but you stayed, was it your choice?"

"Oh absolutely," she beams as she continues to tend to the soil, "I've raised babies here. I buried my dear husband after 17 amazing years of marriage here, God rest his soul. I've had a good life."

"That's wonderful, but how did you go from running to…raising a family?"

"Well my dear, there's something about getting away, often times you end up finding yourself."

"Olivia!" Jakes calls for me. I stand up and help Helen to her feet.

"Sounds like your husband's looking for you."

"Oh, he's not my husband."

"Boyfriend?"

"Just friend…good friend."

"I see, well it was nice talking to you Olivia, don't be a stranger."

"Ok," I say waving goodbye. I stare at her as she walks away. I would love to know more of her story, she's lived an average life, nothing special or extraordinary yet for some inexplicable reason, she has me intrigued.

"There you are." I turn to find Jake standing by me.

"Yeah, just working on my garden," I say, waving my arm showing my work.

"It looks good."

"Thanks, I had some help." I say, looking back in the direction of Helen's house.

"What times our reservation? I'm starved."

"Oh damn, I forgot," I look at my watch to see what time it is, "it's in an hour, let me shower really quick and we'll go."

* * *

"Damn," I mutter to myself, through the bobby pin I'm holding in my mouth. I don't have time to straighten my hair so I'm trying to French braid it, something I've always had trouble with. Were already running late, this is so frustrating.

_*knock,knock*_

"Come in," I call out keeping my focus on my half braided hair, one wrong move and it'll fall apart. And it just fell apart, "son of a-"

"You o.k?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I grumble trying to restart my braid.

"Here," he says coming towards me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, honestly confused.

Jake places his hands on my shoulders and speaks to my reflection in the mirror, "relax, will you," to my bewilderment, he begins to braid my hair. I watch him in the mirror, he's concentrating hard and it's actually coming out well.

"Where did you learn to French braid?"

He breathes out heavily, but doesn't look up,"I had a sister."

And once again, I've stumbled into the landmine that is Jakes past. I decide to take a chance, "older or younger?"

"Younger," he answers, not taking his eyes off my hair.

"You used past tense."

"Yeah..." he finishes my braid and we eye each other in the mirror.

_What happened to you?_

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not yet," he shakes his head and rubs my shoulders, "you ready?"

"ok."


	6. Chapter 6

We're waiting for our food to be delivered. I ordered the tortellini ricotta and spinach with a glass of sangiovese. Jake ordered lasagna and a beer I've never heard of. Our tastes differ so much, it's almost night and day, but we get along despite our differences. These quirks work between friends, but I seriously doubt a relationship could flourish. There I go again. I find my mind wanders into the 'what if' more and more the longer were here. Every time I do I just remind myself it makes no difference, it would never work. I don't want normal. I could never be Helen, I'd be scratching to get out within hours. It's not who I am, if it was I would be married to Edison with a gaggle of kids off somewhere making jam. But I didn't love Edison, and I don't love Jake. I can't love Jake.

_Why?_

"So your gardens coming along nicely," Jake says.

"It is," I nod. I take a big gulp of my wine,attempting to drown out my subconscious, "I met a neighbor who helped me."

"That's nice," he smiles, "I was thinking of maybe building you a small fence, you know to keep critters out."

"You know how to do that?"

"Yeah it's not too hard, I can pick up some wood tomorrow."

Another clue, should I go for it? I'm gonna go for it, "who taught you your handyman skills, dad? A brother?"

"Stop."

Shit, went too far.

"I'm sorry, I was just making small talk."

"I told you, I'm not ready to talk about it," Jake responds, exasperated.

_God you're frustrating._

"Ballard? Is that you?"

Jake looks up and smiles at an unfamiliar voice behind me, "Taylor? Danny Taylor? My God it's been years! What are you doing here?" Jake jumps up to greet what I'm assuming is an old friend. They hug.

"Oh just vacationing with the Mrs and you?" He glances over at me.

"Oh I'm sorry where are my manners, this is Olivia," Jake beams.

I stand up and shake the mans hand

"Olivia. That's where I know you, you're Olivia Pope the woman who was rumored to have been having an affair with the president."

_Oh no_

I look around hoping no one else in the restaurant heard him, "yeah I certainly got a laugh out of that one," I say with a chuckle.

"I'll say, that president of ours is a real skeeze. I voted Langston to be honest, but I just knew from what I read it couldn't have been true. He really is more of the Bill Clinton, random intern kind of guy, what would a classy lady like you be doing shaking up with him?"

"Right," I say through a fake grin. This moment needs to end.

Taylor grabs my hand again and squeezes it, "glad you two were able to make it through."

"Thanks" I say. I didn't correct him. I couldn't, as far as the American public following the news knows Jake and I are an item. Part of the aftermath of my name being leaked. Jake glances at me, he looks slightly panicked, like he knows this must be uncomfortable for me but he isn't sure how to intervene.

"Well hey listen, I gotta get back to my dinner, here's one of my cards," he hands Jake a card from his wallet, "why don't you give me a call and we'll hang out sometime, how does that sound?"

"Great!" Jake says, taking the card.

Danny turns back to me, "it was great meeting you Olivia. Jakes a handful but he's one of the best guys I know."

I look over at Jake, "ditto" I say. His eyes dart to mine, he smiles at me and rubs my back.

"Ok guys, later," the man named Danny Taylor announces. He walks back to his seat, leaving us in the awkward aftermath of what just happened.

"You ok?" Jake asks taking his seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry if-"

"Its fine" I interrupt.

Jake looks at me helpless. I think he wants to do something, to fix it. But how can he help me? I don't even know how to help me.

"Waiter," I call out.

Our server makes his way to our table, "yes, mam?"

"Can I have another glass of sangiovese?"

"Yes mam right away."

"Thank you," I say. I finish the glass siting in front of me.

"Another glass?" Jake asks.

"Is there a problem?" I counter.

"Well you typically have maybe half a glass with your dinner. You polished that one off and you just ordered a second and we haven't even gotten our appetizers."

"You're not in charge of me."

"I know that, I just-"

"You're not in charge of me, Jake. So, let's enjoy our evening."

"Fine..." he responds, defeated.

* * *

"Home sweet home" Jake says closing the front door behind him, "where are you going?" he asks watching me make a beeline for our kitchen.

"There's a bottle of red wine from Tuesdays dinner in the cabinet," I respond, opening cabinets trying to remember where I left it.

"Hey come on, let's sober up," Jake grabs my hand and tries to lead me away from the cabinets, "you're already a little tipsy. Do you want to talk about this? We can talk."

"Would you stop," I snap at him, pulling my hand away, "you're not my father, you're not responsible for me." Aha! I remembered where the wine was. I reach for the cabinet above the stove and grab the prize I searched for.

"No, I'm not" Jake replies, snatching the wine from me. He's angry, "I'm your friend and as your friend I am going to be here for you, do you want to talk about this?"

"Let it go."

"Fine, you want to do this, let's do this." Jake slams the bottle of wine down on the kitchen table and storms towards the cabinets, he grabs two wine glasses.

"Do what?" I ask.

"We haven't done this in a while, but I think it will work," he makes his way back to the table and fills both glasses with wine and takes a seat, "we'll play you tell me something, I tell you something," he downs his entire glass of wine and holds his hand out, offering me the chair next to his.

"Oh Jake, come on y-"

"Do you want to know about my past or don't you?"

Whoa…he's going to talk. Not willing to give up this chance, I take a seat next to him. I follow Jakes lead and down my glass as well, "ok, tell me about your sister."

"She's dead," he states bluntly, refilling both of our glasses, "my father was molesting her and no one believed her, including me, the one person she felt safe with. She ran away. Her body was found in a ditch two weeks later. Your turn."

"Jake..."

He takes another gulp of his wine, "your turn."

That was hard for him, he looks pained and I feel slightly guilty for pushing him to tell me.

"I poured through those self-help books," I begin, "I read every word on every page but I'm not dealing with an emotionally detached father or a stubborn boyfriend. I'm in love with a married man who just happens to be the President of the United States and my father runs a top secret organization that is responsible for killing kings and dignitaries and the man...the man I'm spending time with now was sent in by the both of them...there's nothing in those books on how to deal with that and even in paradise, I can't escape it, so how do I deal with it?"

Jake pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the forehead, "you polish off the rest of this wine and I don't judge you."

"Only if you join me."

"Ok," Jake lets me go and sits up in his chair. He empties the rest of the bottle in our glasses.

"We are two screwed up individuals aren't we?" I ask, taking my glass.

"Yeah..." Jake nods.

We sit in silence for a few moments, but it's not awkward silence. At least not for me. I playfully bump him with my shoulder and he smiles back at me.

"Thank you," I mutter taking another big gulp from my glass.

"For what?"

"For being here with me," I say, "I guess I needed you more than I thought."

"I'm realizing the same thing."

Jake places his hand over mine, like he's done many times before but he doesn't move it away this time. He keeps it there, holding mine. I watch his hand waiting for him to move, but he never does. Why am I so fascinated by hand placement? And why is it exciting me? I look up at him. We're inches away from each other and the tension between us is so thick it's stifling. I can hear his breathing change, so I know for sure it's not just me. Typically this would be my cue to move away, to get space between us so nothing happened, but I don't. Not sure if it's the alcohol or something else but I move closer to him. He moves closer as well. Our lips brush against each others. We hesitate and pull away slightly, like we're teens and one of our parents just walked in. I open my eyes and see he is staring back at me, yes,we both want this. He trails the hand that was holding mine up my arm, he threads his fingers into my hair and gently pulls me to him, his lips finally claiming mine. I moan in response. I want him.

"Wait," Jake breathes even though his tongue continues to invade my mouth. He stops finally holding my face in his hands. He places his forehead on mine, "we can't."

"Don't you want me?" I ask, my breath still shallow.

He looks me in the eyes, confused by my question, "Of course I do. You know I do."

"Well if you want me and I want you what's the problem?"

"Reality."

"I don't want reality right now."

He lets me go and attempts to put distance between us scooting away from me," I'm supposed to be helping you, you're supposed to be fix-"

"I don't want reality right now." I interrupt forcefully.

Jake studies me like he often does. He comes back to me and runs his thumb down my cheek then grazes my chin with his fingertips. He opens his mouth but hesitates as if he's carefully considering his words, "the beds not big enough for the both of us."

"This table is."


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for the long delay. Thanks for reading and commenting. I added 'x' to indicate beginning and end of a memory, in case it isn't clear.  
**

The sun is my enemy. Shining through the blinds, pulling me from a sleep I definitely am not ready to leave. My head is throbbing and like a brick everything hits me, memories from last night flood in, like how I got here in my bed.

_Turns out it was big enough._

I lift my head slightly, Jake's not here. He must have went back to his room. I wake up more and realize I'm only wearing a tank top. I force myself to get out of my bed. I walk over to the dresser and put some underwear and pajama pants on. I drag my feet to the door, but pause with my hand on the handle. What am I going to say to him? I let go and head back to my bed, I need a minute. I cover my head with my pillow, blocking the sun. That feeling was definitely still there, if anything it's gotten stronger. I don't know what to do with that knowledge. Flashes of last night begin streaming into my mind...

**x**

"The beds not big enough for the both of us"

"This table is."

His eyes get big and he inhales sharply. He's surprised by what I said. I'm surprised by what I said, clearly the alcohol is making me brave. He moves towards me and in one fluid moment lifts me to the table. He stands up and removes his shirt before placing his lips on mine. He's gentle, cupping my face in his hands. He pauses and looks me in the eyes, smiling at me. The amount of desire I feel under his gaze is unbearable. He slowly moves towards me again and my heart jumps in anticipation as his lips brush mine. My tongue grazes his lower lip unable to hold back.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispers against my mouth...

**x**

I force myself to stop reminiscing. There are way too many emotions there. I think I'm falling for him.

_You fell long ago, babe._

I hate when my subconscious starts analyzing without my approval. I desperately want to scream into my pillow but I know it'll just alert Jake so I don't, instead I throw it to my side and drag myself back to my feet. I don't want to but I need to leave this room and find a cure for my throbbing head.

I open the door quietly. Jake's bedroom door is closed. He must still be asleep, I breathe a small sigh of relief and head to the kitchen. As I walk by the living room I catch movement from the side of my eye.

"Liv?"

My heart jumps. It's Jake, he was sleep on the couch, "yeah?" I respond as calmly as I can.

"Whose turn is it to make breakfast?"

"uh, y-yours."

"Ok," he sighs, rising to his feet. He's only in his boxers. He rubs his eyes and calmly walks past me to his bedroom, after a few moments he comes back out wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He passes me again. He's acting as if nothing has happened. Maybe it's because he isn't fully awake yet. Confused, I follow him to the kitchen. I find him sitting at the table slumped over. He isn't awake yet. I shake my head and walk towards the cabinets. I grab all the ingredients I need.

"What are you doing? It's my turn to cook," Jake murmurs, barely coherent.

"Just trust me," I say, combining ingredients.

"Fine," he sighs.

I shake up my concoction and pour it in two glasses. I bring both cups with me to the table.

_The table._

I pause for half a second, forcing my mind not to think about it.

"Drink," I order, handing him a cup.

"What is it?"

"It's a hangover cure my friends and I created in college. Guaranteed to cure even the worst hangovers."

Jake drinks from his cup, "uck, it tastes awful," Jake gags.

"I know, but you have to finish it or it won't work" I finish my cup of miracle cure and get up to put the cup in the sink.

"How long will it take to work?" he asks, finally finishing his glass.

"Give it a minute to work through your system" I respond. I grab cereal from the cabinet and two bowls and bring them to Jake at the table.

He grabs the cereal and looks the box up and down, "how do omelets sound?"

"Feeling better?"

"Slightly."

He gets up and begins preparing out breakfast. We're in silence again but this time it's not a comfortable one. I want to say something but I'm not sure what. The fact that he's still acting as though nothing happened makes it worse.

"So I guess we should talk about last night," I blurt out. Wow, that's really not how I wanted to slide into this, but the ripping off the Band-Aid method could work.

He turns to face me, bowl in hand, "are you ready to talk about last night?"

"Honestly?"

He nods and raises his eyebrows awaiting my response.

I shake my head, 'not really.'

'Then there's nothing to talk about," he shrugs. He turns back to the stove and finishes preparing our breakfast, "I was going to work on the fence today. I'll probably start af-"

"I don't regret it," I murmur.

He continues cooking, facing away from me. Maybe he didn't hear me. I squirm in my chair slightly. This is why I don't open up. This is why I don't like to talk about these things.

I watch him scoop my omelet onto a plate and bring it to me, "neither do I," he finally states, placing my plate in front of me. He makes quick eye contact with me before turning back towards the stove.

I smile to myself and begin to eat.

* * *

It's a beautiful and lazy day today. I am sitting outside on a lawn chair rereading one of my self-help books as the afternoon sun washes over me. Jake is across the yard working on the fence.

Life is hard enough as it is without choosing someone difficult to share it with.

I keep re-reading this line. I can't decide if it pertains to me. I look over at Jake. He's hard at work, lining up wood or something. I know as much about building things as I do cooking. It certainly is a nice site though. I try to focus back onto my book. I don't need him distracting me.

Life is hard enough as it is without choosing someone difficult to share it with.

I read the sentence again. My eyes lift slightly from my book until Jake is in my line of vision. My mind begins to wander...

**x**

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispers against my mouth.

I respond by unbuckling his jeans. He leans down and kisses me but this time it's not gentle. This time he doesn't stop or pull away. He runs his hands down my back sending a shock through my entire body. He lets my lips go briefly lifting my shirt over my head...

**x**

"Quite a sight isn't it?"

I practically leap out of my chair, startled by the voice behind me.

"Helen! I didn't hear you walk up."

"I know, you were too busy watching the show," she states, nodding in Jake's direction, "you sure you two are just friends?"

"Jake and I ? Yeah, were just friends…good friends," I stumble on practically every word that leaves my mouth.

"Are you sure about that, Ms. Pope?"

I look up at her, the blood has completely drained from my face.

"Oh it didn't click right away," she begins, "most people here are unplugged. We don't follow things like politics and let's be honest, people are fickle, we forget top news stories the second a new news cycle begins, but I remember and as I recall, he is supposed to be your beau. So, if he's not, you really are the presidents mistress aren't you?"

"Helen, I don't know what you're talking about," I state.

"Sweetie, I'm not looking to out you. I've lived my life, I'm content."

I begin to breathe again.

"Do you love him?"

"Jake? I..."

"I meant the president," she smiles.

"I do," I nod.

"So you love a married man?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that, Helen," I retort

She crosses her arms and looks me in the eye, "he loves you?"

I'm getting uncomfortable with this conversation, "Helen, if you don't want to out me why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Does he love you?"

"He does," I reluctantly reply.

"You two have raw once in a lifetime passion for each other? The kind that makes your temperature rise simply when he enters the room?"

I smile thinking about Fitz, "that about sums it up."

"How long have you been waiting for him?" She asks bluntly.

Life is hard enough as it is without choosing someone difficult to share it with.

"Helen, will you excuse me?" I respond, "I really need to get started on lunch."

"Well certainly sweetheart," she smiles, " don't forget, were supposed to play bridge tomorrow." She finally starts to head back to her house and I'm filled with relief. In some ways she reminds me of my mother, no filter. That's not always a good thing. I head towards the house knowing good and well I have no intentions on starting lunch. I glance back at Jake before I close the door behind me.

* * *

"Liv, are you ok?" Jake asks looking up from his lunch.

"Yeah I'm fine," I say picking at my salad. Everything that's happened in the past 24 hours, that quote, Helen's probing, it's weighing heavy on me. But I can't tell him that , can I?

"Olivia, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I respond, not looking up from my plate. I'm really not present right now.

"Would you...I mean do you... never mind..." he says, going back to his food.

I look up at him, "what is it Jake?"

_*knock,knock,knock*_

There's a knock at the door and it startles us both.

Jake scrunches his face as if asking, 'who could that be?'

"It might be our neighbor, Helen" I respond to his unspoken question, "I'll go get it." I get up to answer the door. My hearts heavy and now I'm curious what's going on with Jake. Where is the peace and tranquility living on an island is supposed to bring? I reach the door and open it fully expecting Helen to be on the other end but it's the man from the restaurant. How the hell does he know where we live? He looks like he's in shock. He's disheveled and is visibly shaking. I have seen his face on clients' dozens of times before, this is bad.

"Hi, is Ballard here?"

I want to ask him what he wants. I want to ask him how he knows where we live. Hell, I almost want to close the door and pretend he isn't here. I ran away from this after all. But instead I call for Jake.

"Jake!"

"Yeah?"

"You might want to come in here."

"What is it?"

"Come here!"

Jake entered the room, wiping his hands on a napkin, clearly irritated, "what is it Liv? My lunch is- Taylor?" He looks just as surprised to see him as I am.

"Can I talk to you?"

Jake glances over to me, but I have no answers to give him. I'm sure my face showed that.

"Ok..." he finally responds.

"In private," Jake's old friend looks over at me.

This is surprising, but I guess it makes sense. He doesn't really know me, it's just…people come to me for help. Why is he not wanting to include me?

"Ok, let's step out," Jake responds. They walk out with Jake shutting the door behind them. I move to the window and I peek out the blinds. His friend is explaining his situation and Jake's listening intently. I go to the door and put my ear to it hoping to hear what's wrong. I can't really make anything out.

"No! She's gone!"

I heard that. Who's gone? I push my ear to the door harder but it's no use, it's all gibberish. I go back to the window and glance back out. Jake's holding Taylor's shoulders. It looks like he's trying to calm him down, or maybe reason with him. He turns and heads back to the door. I leap over to the living room and onto the couch snatching up the first magazine I can find. Jake enters the house and walks straight to his room. After a few minutes he passes by again, heading towards the door.

"Well?" I ask, hoping to stop him.

"Well what?"

"Well are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not going to tell you what's going on. I'll be back tonight. By the way your magazines upside down," he states pointing at the magazine I haphazardly grabbed. He walks away, closing the door behind him.

I slump into the couch and throw the magazine back onto the coffee table. Apparently running away to an island wasn't the best way to find tranquility.


End file.
